Then came Inazuma.
Raiden Shogun needs no explanation. The reason she shut herself away in the Plane of Euthymia, pretending to meditate, was to dodge erosion.
More than that, it was escapism.
As for why the other nations don't share the same concern—it's because their gods are new.
The Little Grass God has only been around for five hundred years and barely understands anything, let alone erosion. She's probably younger than some of the longer-lived races.
Fontaine is similar. The former Hydro Archon, Egeria, died at Khaenri'ah's gate. After Focalors inherited the Gnosis five hundred years ago, she drafted a plan to fight the prophecy, brought the Hydro Dragon back to Fontaine, told Furina to act as the archon, and hid herself inside the Oratrice Mécanique d'Analyse Cardinale, quietly gathering power until the day she could smash the Hydro Archon's throne.
Natlan needs even less explanation. Its archons are humans elevated to the role; because their nature doesn't change, the Fire God is replaced roughly every century. Excluding Shibarak—he defeated the Fire Dragon and was elevated to godhood by Phanes. He fell at Khaenri'ah, and Mavuika became the second Fire God.
For Natlan's future, after that long, ruinous war of extinction, she and six heroes made a plan: die alone five hundred years in the past to arrive in the present five hundred years later.
How many Fire Gods turned over in between, no one knows. Naturally, they didn't feel erosion.
Snezhnaya should be similar to the Little Grass God—its ruler is likely also a newborn god.
(Snezhnaya isn't out yet. No one really knows what the Tsaritsa is like.)
Not just the Seven Archons—the Seven Elemental Dragon Sovereigns and the Four Shades of the Heavenly Principles can't escape it either. It's a curse laid on all equally.
Humans simply don't live long enough to notice.
Istaroth finally reacted and, surprised, asked, "You're saying all this out loud—aren't you afraid I'll spread the word and make people fight over your treasure? Do you trust me that much?"
Rowan smiled and looked at her with open fondness. "Why wouldn't I? You're my queen consort."
"Would you really betray me?"
Istaroth flushed and lowered her head, shy for once. It was the first time Rowan had acknowledged their relationship so plainly. Embarrassment, yes—but more than that, she was moved. His trust set her heart fluttering, and she silently resolved never to sell out anything about Rowan—not even to the Heavenly Principles.
Phanes: Then I'm leaving!
Off to the side, Venti could only stare, speechless. If you're going to flaunt your lovey-dovey nonsense, at least don't do it in front of him.
Aaaaagh!
Avalon's ability is absurdly broken. When Venti first heard of it, he, too, thought to use it against erosion.
Then he gave up.
Because while it helps, cleansing millennia of erosion? Who knows how long that would take—and who knows if it would work on anyone but Rowan?
So why agonize over a maybe? With his relationship with Rowan, borrowing it would be easy. No need to seize it by force—especially when Mondstadt needs Rowan governing right now. If they fell out, Venti didn't even want to imagine what Mondstadt would face. Besides, with Rowan's current combat power, a wind spirit who isn't built for battle can't oppose him anyway.
"Thinking about testing it against erosion?" Rowan, catching Venti's stray thought, held Avalon out to him.
Venti blinked and pointed at himself. "Really?"
"Of course. It's nothing shady. If it helps you, borrow it for a while."
Rowan's Avalon wasn't like Artoria's. Backed by the system's might, even if someone stole it, they couldn't use it. Only if Rowan willingly handed it over could anyone else make it work.
"Uh… aren't you treating Dvalin right now?" Venti hesitated, remembering how Rowan had beaten the dragon half to death. "Give it to me after you're done."
"He's done," Rowan said, pointing at Dvalin.
Venti looked—and his eyes nearly popped out. The dragon who'd been torn up and on death's door was now spotless. His breathing was steady, and even the Abyssal taint was gone. Aside from being asleep, he showed no signs of injury.
Venti lowered his head to stare at Avalon in his hands. Was this thing really that capable? In an instant, wounds that severe were just… gone?
That was Venti being sheltered. Rowan's "violent" beatdown had looked bad, but he'd barely used any strength. It only looked brutal; most of it was surface damage. Where the poisoned blood had pooled, he'd hit harder to force it out. That was why Dvalin recovered so fast. Even a bugged artifact wouldn't have healed him this quickly otherwise. As for the lingering coma, that was just overuse of elemental power and a drained spirit. A short rest—half an hour at most—and he'd wake.
"You're overthinking it. I didn't go hard," Rowan said. "Mostly scrapes. Go ahead, try it. I'll also see if it does anything to erosion. If it works, we can open a new service line with Avalon."
At that thought, Rowan couldn't help grinning in a way that made Venti's skin crawl. The bard edged away with Avalon in hand, as if greed were contagious.
A short while later, Venti returned with a complicated look and offered Avalon back to Rowan. "I've got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"
"..."
(End of Chapter)
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